Hearts Collide
by Vagrant Oner
Summary: A destined encounter between Squall and Cloud. Both must settle their conflicts, internal and external, in battle. Harsh critique encouraged.
1. Showdown of Fate

[Prelude - Showdown of Fate]  
  
Cloud can be seen in the distance, entering the coliseum.  
  
"After all this time, I've finally made it.", the intangible words formed in his mind.  
  
He walks forth when unexpectedly, a black feather falls from above, drifting from side to side until it reaches the ground. A shadow descends behind the feather, followed by a pair of muscular legs wrapped around tightly by leather. As our view rises upward, we see a black angel wing, where the feather originated, sprouting from the back of a man with long silver hair... the man is Sephiroth.  
  
They are now faced with each other, Sephiroth looks onto Cloud, and Cloud looks onto Sephiroth. Cloud's ragged cape flaps due to the wind, and Sephiroth's long hair mimics that motion. None showing the slightest symptom of emotion.  
  
"So we meet at last.", Cloud is the first to speak.  
  
Sephiroth follows, "I was searching for you too."  
  
"As long as you exist, I can't wake from this nightmare. You are my darkness."  
  
Sephiroth opens his arms widely and speaks, as if mocking Cloud, and at the same time, declaring it to the world as if it held some importance.  
  
"Is that so?, I shall draw you into darkness. Into the nightmare that forever deprives you of light, from which you can never awaken."  
  
Cloud's response is one of action, and not words. He quickly raises the Buster Sword above his head, which had layed dormant at the grip of his hand, and stations it in front of him with both hands holding tightly. Sephiroth slowly reaches for the Masamune at the side of his waist. The men stand in front of each other, in complete battle stance, electricity crackles around them, a small demonstration of their power which was now elevating as a preparation for battle. They remain like this for a few seconds, when in conjunction, they charge towards each other. Sephiroth runs rapidly, his long black wing soaring through the air encountering no resistance from friction. Cloud jumps forward, keeping low towards the ground. Both of the fighter's swords come from behind and meet where their handlers do, the collision birthing a sphere of light which grows out of non-existence and soon returns there. Cloud is surrounded by blue erratic lines of electricity, and red electricity surges through Sephiroth. The men withdraw backwards from the stalemate, Cloud's own black demonic wing surfaces, and he charges towards Sephiroth with even more speed than before. Again, a sphere of white light emerges from the clash of the two gigantic weapons, they seperate, Cloud somersaults forward, landing on the ground, and Sephiroth spins around jumping into the air, the Buster Sword and Masamune collide again inbetween midair and the foes. Cloud immediately ascends to the level of Sephiroth, striking his sword against the other, and the battle becomes airborn. They swipe their weapons violently several times, the clinging of metal resonating through the deserted arena, and sparks from the metal dissapearing into thin air. Just as they had done so in the ground, Cloud and Sephiroth apart once more. Time freezing, Cloud stares briefly at Sephiroth, a sentiment of ferocity flowing freely in his eyes, the lower portion of his face concealed by his shoulder armor, and the Buster Sword awaiting another round. Sephiroth looks down, folding his arms in front of his chest, one on top of the other, the blade of the Masamune closest to the handle coming into contact with the left side of his collar flaps. Sephiroth's line of vision rises, time goes into fast- forward, and attack ensues from both parties simultaneously.  
  
The sounds of attack can be heard, but the attacks themselves are mere blurs. Only spheres of light and dissipating sparks are visible. The super- power of these two fighters was too great to be restrained by the earth, and so, this showdown of fate was something only the heavens could relish.  
  
After a unbroken streak of attacks, Cloud flips backwards in the air, employing complete control over his body, as if gravity held no judgement over his movements. He lunges at Sephiroth, striking down on him, hitting nothing but a ball of blue light oultined with a white stripe, and a cloud of black feathers. A stream of flashing lights lead to the sky. Sephiroth had teleported, now much higher than Cloud, and the distance between them much greater. It took only an instant to realize Sephiroth's new location. The man wielding the Masamune taunted him, gesturing with his hand to come closer. Cloud held the Buster Sword horizontally, one hand firmly on the handle, and the other at the end of it. He flew upwards, now with resilience as never before in his mako-blue eyes. Sephiroth, equally as decided to make this the finishing blow, waves his sword backwards to increase the amount of force behind his swing. The weapons impact for one final time, a blinding flash of light emitts from the collision of the fighter's confrontation, and sound, time, and space all faint indistinctly. Suddenly, the words spoken by the man Cloud had met earlier raced through his mind... they had struck close at heart.  
  
"Defeating Sephiroth will gain you nothing! What does it matter if the memories of your past are false? Your friends are still alive, and they're waiting for you. With them, you'll make new memories, think back on them, and you'll have a new past!" 


	2. Heart of a Lion

[Chapter I - Heart of a Lion]  
  
Squall -- as usual, was engaged in profound contemplation. Leaning against the massive crimson wall on one side of the entrance, his right arm at angle across his torso bearing the weight of his left arm at the elbow, and with his left hand covering a portion of his face, his fingers wrapped around his brown strands of hair and supporting his forehead; the classical posture of any thoughtful individual. He remembered it so well. It felt as if no time had transpired between then and now, yet, it had, for they were not here with him. He remembered them shouting his name in despair, in agony... "SQUALL!!"... most of all, he remembered her scream above all others, it deafened the rest. It haunted him still, and was the reason he decided to adopt a new name -- Leon.  
  
His name was called, and Leon knew what it meant. Instinctively, he took hold of the Revolver Gunblade at his side, and although it was the weakest of all the weapons he had acquired during his journey, he favored it still. "Leon!", once again, in an impatient manner, a stumpy figure near the stadium cried out.  
  
With his thougths now collected, Leon responded, "I heard you the first time, goat man."  
  
"Watch your mouth with me kid!" Normally, Philoctetes, or Phil for short, wouldn't have hesitated to charge in attack anyone who dared call him that... but he had been witness to Leon's abilities in battle, and would have rather remain a spectator and not a participant.  
  
Leon walked towards the arena, drawing closer to the battle square with each step.  
  
He had brought defeat upon hundred of enemies in this ring before, and afterwards, defeat awaited a hundred enemies more... with each passing battle, Leon knew he would eventually encounter the man he was in search for. This man, as he had come to know through Aerith, Cid, and Yuffie, possessed incredible strength of both body and heart. No doubt was this man in search of his lost comrades, they thought, and so, Leon volunteered for purposes known only to him. All three, Cid, Yuffie, and Aerith, were surprised at this unexpected behavior from Leon... they considered him a lonewolf, and he hardly talked at all. The only time Leon did not feel like an outcast was in the companionship of his old comrades, they were the only friends he ever had.  
  
"I wasted our time together, I wasn't able to cherish it.", Leon thought in regret as he stood in front of the familiar arena.  
  
"You OK champ?", Phil asked, slight concern in his voice.  
  
Leon replied with silence at first, but then decided to ask a question of his own. First having to lower his vision to meet Phil's, "Who am I facing?"  
  
"A tough one, he's made it here without losing... well, just once. I tell you kid, he was holding back!"  
  
In the corner of his eye, Leon begun too see a shadow in the ground cast by a figure on the opposite side of the ring. Slowly raising his head, as if time was gradually halting solely for this purpose, he first saw the triangular tip of a huge cracking blade, mantled by torn wrappings, umber color boots, navy blue pants, with leather straps fastening the baggy cloth below this fighter's knees, above, an arrangement of belts adorned the waist. As Leon came to notice each feature of his opponent's outfit... his memory soon brought forth a description of the man he sought. Time returned to normal. Leon was now met with an unnatural shade of blue eyes, surrounded by a pale white face, though, only half of the man's face was visible, the rest remained hidden behind a long violet ragged scarf, and spiky blonde hair.  
  
Leon was in awe, even though anyone who had been present wouldn't have noticed an exterior change, soon his attention was drawn by the dark aura this man emitted through every part of his body. There were some minor inconsistencies with the man's present state, and the description he had been given by the people who had known him in the past, but this sensation of dark energy troubled Leon the most. The man had been considered a hero only by his companions, no one else in his world thought of him as that, not even himself nor would he have taken satisfaction in the thought... so why ally himself with the darkness? Leon was unsure of the man's true identity, but it did not deter him from pondering over such inquiries.  
  
"Are you Cloud?"  
  
"Why would it matter to you?"  
  
The man was quick to reply, it caught Leon by surprise... sincerely, he had not expected one at all.  
  
"Answer my question, and I'll answer yours.", Leon persisted.  
  
"I'm only here to defeat you and move on to my next opponent.", the blonde- haired man responded, ignoring the request and now irritated by Leon's words. "I've already wasted enough time on you than I wanted to."  
  
Leon growled faintly, also annoyed at the small, yet vehement exchange between these two fighters. From what he had been told, Leon expected a cold attitude on behalf of Cloud, but not unwillingness to cooperate; he further doubted this man could be Cloud, but the similarities were undeniable.  
  
In the earliest stages of his life, Leon could not resist being pulled towards battle, and as a result was praised for his skills. Underneath in secrecy, he hoped there were another way to settle problems, however, war had made a warrior out of him, and he knew there was no other solution but violence at times. At heart he was a pacifist, what prevented Leon from upholding this ideal was his gift. Leon had a power most didn't, and did not intent to waste it. He would rather fight and put his power to use, creating peace even if momentary, than attempt to settle conflicts peacefully and obtain no results.  
  
Such an occasion called for his talent - both his blessing and curse in one package. Combat offered to bestow the enlightenment he now needed, ironic that it was also the reason he had become an orphan. Not only would Leon discover the nature of the mysterious aura enveloping his foe, but have an opportunity to test "Cloud's" strength... Leon was still uncertain, but that's how he would regard the man as, for now. He would not disclose the information he held so hastily without some reassurance.  
  
"Whatever."  
  
Mounting the Revolver Gunblade on his shoulder, Leon stepped onto the square platform. The invisible wall's erected, surrounding the arena to protect the coliseum's audience from the incredible power both fighters would soon display. 


End file.
